


longing

by FireLorde



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Brainwashing, Dissociation, HYDRA can suck my entire ass, Other, Rumination, Torture, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, all that jazz, experimental writing style, i can only write porn and sadness huh, quick fic, sad fic, takes place before or after the winter soldier, you decide! it's like choose your own adventure but the author is lazy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 17:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15645711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireLorde/pseuds/FireLorde
Summary: a look inside the mind of a ghost story.





	longing

**Author's Note:**

> just a new writing style i'm trying out. 
> 
> and no, i am not trying to bury all the BoM stuff.
> 
> ...okay, maybe i am.
> 
> unbetaed because it's late and no one wants to beta something that i cranked out in the asscrack of the night

there is a light that bucky sees in the distance when the scientists hook him up to the machines, stick him with their needles, draw out every drop of blood in his body.

 

it gets farther with every shock, with every fizzled-out, broken, captured memory.  _ there is no hope of returning back home _ . 

 

it’s a shock and a scream that isn’t his, but it comes from his body, it’s guttural, it shakes the plates of steel on his arm and the tough, gritty titanium in his spine, the splints that support his arm so it doesn’t singe his skin.

 

bucky doesn’t know where he is sometimes.

he wakes up in his room and screams, cries, till he is hoarse, deafening himself, his bloody lips cracking with the silent screams he cannot produce.

 

the night brings terror unknown-  _ he _ was with him, he tells himself,  _ end of the line _ , but he doesn’t know who  _ he _ is, doesn’t know what he’s talking about, doesn’t know, doesn’t know, doesn’t know. he doesn’t know.

bucky doesn’t know.

 

a psychologist asks him how he’s feeling and he says he doesn’t know. a psychologist asks him how his mood is and he stares at the bars over the door and shakes his head. a psychologist asks him what his name is and he only sighs.

 

he goes to the lab again and they’re sticking him, taking his blood and a bit of his skin and he’s watching the tiles in the ceiling tessellate and expand and contract and scream and beg to be let out in his voice, in his desperate, broken voice.

 

he is let out at 3:18 pm and sets for the mess hall, running into another soldier and watching her glare, so contemptuously, so darkly, so full of hate though she is so young. her dark eyes tremble and waver with pure, unadulterated hatred. she is 15.

 

or so bucky thinks.

 

he doesn’t even know how old he is. he’s 23, he’s 72, he’s 6, he’s 48. he’s a new person every day. he’s a man. he is a man in a body that was not his to begin with. whatever cosmic entity thought his life through has royally fucked him over.

 

the false sense of touch on the left did take some time to get used to.

 

he finishes the bit of his rice and throws it into the incinerator, trudging back to his room and locking himself there until further notice. 9:37 pm. washington, d.c..

 

there’s a mission today.

 

and the winter soldier cannot rest.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is [here](http://liferuiner63.tumblr.com)


End file.
